


Standing By

by Anonymous



Series: chasing-lux's fanfic [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Accidents, Alternate Universe- Littles are known, Avengers Tower, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Caregiver Bucky, Caregivers And Littles, Characters Watching The Lion King (1994), Classifications, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Diapers, Disney Movies, Domestic Avengers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Headspaces, Little Peter, Littles Are Known, Nicknames, Nightmares, Non-Sexual Age Play, Not Canon Compliant, Pacifiers, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Platonic Cuddling, Precious Peter Parker, Sleepy Cuddles, Soft Peter Parker, Team as Family, Thumb-sucking, finger sucking (non sexual), little!peter, peter cries a lot in this, pull ups, pull-ups
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:43:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21967867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Peter is an unclassified little. After school one day, he's slipping into his headspace without realizing what it is. Bucky resists the urge to help, but the little comes to him.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Peter Parker, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers
Series: chasing-lux's fanfic [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1608094
Comments: 29
Kudos: 401
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is @chasing-lux

Bucky knew the second Peter walked into the common area that he was dropping. He donned sweats and a loose pastel blue sweater. His hair was a mess of chestnut brown curls, and his eyes had heavy bags. He touched his face every few seconds, rubbing his nose or eyes, playing with his hair, or chewing on his thumb. 

The caregiver in Bucky roared to life, pounding on the proverbial cage to let him out and take care of the obviously slipping little. And he would, if Peter was classified. Classification tests are mandatory for everyone when they turn sixteen. Peter is only 15, and adamant that he a neutral. Statistically, he was right. About 73% of the population falls under the neutral classification instead of little or caregiver. It’d make the most sense for him to be a neutral. 

But the way he looked around the room with big Bambi eyes suggested otherwise. 

Bucky remained lying on the couch, book in hand and news playing as white noise in the background. A half eaten bowl of popcorn sat discarded on the coffee table along with an open can of sprite. He laid the book on his chest before switching the channel on the TV to something little-appropriate. Instead of depressing news about the state of the world, the television played the Lion King. 

Peter shuffled in place, backpack hanging off of one shoulder, thumb veering dangerously close to his mouth as he decided what to do. Bucky did his best to keep his eyes on the television instead of on the little. Once Peter spotted the movie playing on the TV, he was transfixed. His thumb dropped from his mouth and his bag from his shoulder. 

He plopped down on the couch, right next to Bucky’s feet. If this was anyone else, Bucky would’ve recoiled. Instead, he sits up against the back of the couch with his feet resting of the coffee table to allow Peter more room. He took it, kicking off his shoes and curling up on the couch, bambi eyes glued to the screen. 

Peter absentmindedly grabbed one of the throw pillows, clutching it to his chest when Mufasa gets killed by the stampede. 

“No,” He whimpers.

Bucky glanced at Peter. Tears filled his brown eyes at the sight of Simba trying to wake his father. The caregiver cringed internally. Maybe letting someone who has lost more father figures than anyone he knew watch the Lion King was a bad idea.   
Peter buried his face in the pillow. Bucky fought the urge to react. If he made an attempt to comfort the boy, he could snap Pete out of his burgeoning headspace. But if he didn’t react, there could be a crying little on his hands. Thankfully, he didn’t have to choose. As soon as Hakuna Matata started to play, Peter perked up. He took the pillow away from his face, and hummed along with the cheerful music. The caregiver breathed a sigh of relief. Everything in his body wanted him to react, but he hadn’t taken care of a little in seven decades. He couldn’t. Each little HYDRA brought to him was slaughtered in front of his eyes. Besides, there was no telling how Stark or Stevie would react if they found out he was taking care of Peter. Sure, he’d been around littles during his recovery, namely Clint, but he hadn’t been on his own. No one trusted him yet, and he didn’t blame them. 

During the movie, Peter migrated to Bucky’s side, almost sitting on his lap. However, he kept his eyes on the screen, not wanting to disrupt the boy.

Apparently, Peter got distracted. He found Bucky’s arm more appealing than a love song between two lions. The caregiver almost jumped when his metal hand is grabbed. If Pete was anyone else, he would have thrown them across the room with no hesitation. But, this was a boy with a heart of gold, not to mention a little. So he lets Peter look at the hand Shuri designed and trace the designs and plates with his fingers. 

Another thing he didn’t expect was Peter moving his arm so could lie against his chest. He stiffened for a second, glancing down with a look of shock, but he allowed it. Peter leaned back against him, metal arm wrapped around his middle so he could analyze it with child-like curiosity. Bucky’s heart pounded. The boy had always expressed an interest in his arm, but never touched it. He was too polite, or maybe too scared of pissing off Bucky. 

Peter continued to fiddle with Bucky’s arm as the movie finished. He looked up when the noise of the film stopped and bashfully whispered. “‘Nother one, please.”

Bucky blinked. His chest filled with warmth he hadn’t felt since the Great Depression. Pin pricks spread over his skin as he reached for the remote to find another Disney movie to play for the little. He settled on Monsters Inc, which made the boy smile softly before he went back to fiddling with Bucky’s fingers.

Soon into their second film, Peter stopped playing with Bucky’s fingers. Instead, he opted to curl up against his side and use his chest as a pillow. There was no doubt left in Bucky’s mind that he was fully in his headspace. Big Peter was too shy to look Bucky in the eyes, let alone use him as a pillow. But he allows it. He wasn’t about to upset the content little lying on his chest. Something told him that boy had a set of lungs he wasn’t afraid to use. 

Half an hour into the film, Peter’s eyes began to flutter. He’d close them for a few moments before they snapped open only for them to flutter again and again. When they finally stayed shut, Bucky rubbed the little’s back. He grabbed the throw blanket and draped it over both of them. 

Bucky must have dozed off himself because his eyes flew open when small sounds of distress floated in his ears. Peter was still asleep on his chest, but the TV was off. However, the little was squirming, his face scrunched up while small cries fell passed his lips. He rubbed his back again, shushing the boy before it turned into a full blown fit. After a few minutes, he fell still against his chest once more. 

“There you go, you’re okay.” He whispered. “You’re okay,”


	2. Chapter 2

After half an hour of cuddling the sleeping little, Bucky picked him up, settling him on his hip. Peter shifted in his arms, curling up tighter against the broad man. A soft smile grew on his face. He rested his head on Peter’s, letting the warmth in his chest take over for a few seconds. He’d been denied this for so long, he couldn’t help but let himself indulge.

He treaded lightly with the little in his arms, too afraid to wake the poor thing. He took Peter into the room Clint napped in when he was little. It had a changing station, a race car bed with railing, a chest of toys, and an attached bathroom. 

He tucked Peter in the bed and raised the rails so he wouldn’t fall out or hurt himself. Bucky paused in the doorway after tucking Peter in. Was it a good idea to leave Peter? He was pretty deep into his headspace, but these are the early days, so there is no way to know whether or not Peter would be in his headspace or not when he woke up…

Bucky left anyway. If he did wake up big, than Peter would be absolutely mortified. If he woke up little, Friday would let him know. So he goes back to his book and news. 

It took fifteen minutes for something to go wrong. 

“Sergeant Barnes, Peter is in distress,”

That’s all it took for Bucky to spring off the couch and run to the room. Peter thrashed on the bed, hitting the rails and whimpering in his sleep. He rushed to the bedside, taking Peter’s wrists in his hands. 

“Peter,” He said with an even voice. “Wake up. You’re having a bad dream,”

Peter tried to tug his wrists away from the man without success, whimpers now turning to cries. His eyes finally snapped open when Bucky maneuvered him into a sitting position. 

One beat passed, then two.

He fully expected Peter to have stuttered out an apology, blush, and then start asking questions. Instead, tears fell from his eyes and he flung himself into the ex-assassin’s arms, wailing.

Bucky’s instincts take over. He picked up Peter, the little to wrap his arms and legs around his torso, cementing himself to the man. Then he starts to walk around the room, bouncing him slightly and talking to him in a hushed tone to soothe him. Soon, the little was hiccuping and clutching the back of Bucky’s sweater. 

The caregiver took a seat in the rocking chair in the corner. He started to rock them both while humming a lullaby he remembered singing to his sisters when they were younger. That calmed Peter down completely, reducing the last of the tears to nothing and driving the hiccups away. 

Peter was content with the rocking motions for a few minutes before he started to get bored. Bucky felt him grab onto his metal fingers again. Once more, he allowed it. Anything to keep the little happy and calm. 

What he did next shocked Bucky. 

Instead of examining them like he did before, he put the fingers in his mouth. 

Bucky was speechless as Peter sucked on his metal fingers. He wasn’t biting them, just sucking on them as if they were his own fingers or a pacifier. It took a few seconds for the caregiver to come to his senses. His fingers weren’t clean enough for anyone to suck on them, let alone a little. Littles were more susceptible to illnesses and infections, even if they had been genetically modified by a radioactive spider. 

So he stood up, Peter still sucking on his fingers, and went to the closet of the room. There were extras of everything Clint used, including pacifiers, diapers and pull ups, and toys. He grabbed a pacifier, a pull up, and a stuffed elephant Clint didn’t care for, and brought it all out to the main room.

He took his fingers back, much to the dismay of Peter before setting him on the changing table. He whined at the loss, tears immediately returning to his eyes. Bucky popped the pacifier in his mouth within the next few seconds, quelling the new cries of distress. The little blinked in surprise, but was subdued while he is put into a pull up. 

Bucky handed him the stuffed elephant after he is gathered in his arms. Peter takes it hesitantly at first, but buried his face in it after feeling how plush it was. The caregiver fought the urge to coo at the cute sight he beheld. He pulls back the covers to the bed, and tried to tuck Peter in once more. 

Peter was having none of it. He immediately dropped the elephant, wrapped both arms around Bucky’s neck, and gripped the back of his shirt with everything he had in him. 

“No!” He yelped behind the pacifier. Bucky tried again. Peter was clearly still tired, and would be even more exhausted after the nightmare. 

“Noo! ’Ucky no! Wan’ stay!” 

“Okay, pal. You can stay” He soothed, placing an arm under his bum and one around his back. Peter settled back into his embrace with a few sniffles before reaching for his discarded elephant. Bucky picks it up without a second thought, handing it to the calmed down little. 

He steps back out to the living area to grab the phone Stark had left him with to call Steve. He let Peter stay in his arms during the phone call, doubting the little would be able to understand the conversation in his headspace, let alone care. 

It took Steve a few rings to pick up. 

“Hello?” Came the exhausted voice of his long time friend and fellow caregiver. 

“Stevie?” Bucky asked, concern seeping into his voice.

“Hey, Buck. What’s wrong?” Steve’s voice filled with concern. Bucky didn’t particularly care for the new phones Tony supplied them with.

“Stark’s kid is a little.” It wasn’t a question. Bucky heard Steve swear on the other line. 

“He dropped, didn’t he?” Steve wanted to face palm. He knew this was going to happen before they went on the mission. Peter showed all of the signs, being overtired, fussing over the smallest of things, playing with Clint and Bruce while they were little, and clinging to any one of the caregivers for an extended period of time.

“Pretty far.”

“Tony is down for the count, so it’ll be a few days before any of us are back. Is he okay?”

“The kid’s fine.”

“Are you okay?”

Bucky paused. He felt fine. In fact, he felt better than he had in seventy years. He was finally having his biological needs fulfilled, why wouldn’t he feel over the moon? “Yes. I can take care of him,” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Stevie. I’m sure he falls under the same range I’m supposed to be takin’ care of anyhow.” All littles and caregivers fell under some ranking as a sort of sub-class. Bucky was positive that Peter was either a rank B or C, anywhere from 3 months to 3 years in his headspace. 

Steve sighs heavily. “Call Sam if you need anything.”

Bucky hums. He won’t need anything, especially from Sam. That guy got on his nerves for some reason. “Bye punk,” 

Bucky could hear Steve roll his eyes affectionately over the phone. “Bye, pal,”

As soon as Bucky hung up the phone, Peter grabbed onto Bucky’s metal hand again. He looked at the little. His hair was a birds nest of brown curls, his eyes possessed an innocent glint that only littles could have, and he looked more content than he had ever seen him. 

Then Peter’s stomach growled. Bucky hints at a smile at the timing of the fuss. Peter whined in surprise, looking down at his own stomach, shocked that it would make such a noise. 

Bucky grabbed a yogurt from the fridge and a spoon from a drawer before setting Peter on a chair. He sat in front of him, opened the yogurt and stirred it up.

Yeah, he got this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr is @chasing-lux

"No!" 

The cry from the kitchen startled Sam. Steve had called him and asked if he would check up on Bucky and Peter as the latter had slipped into his headspace for the first time. He knew that Bucky was still in the process of recovering from HYDRA, but he had always been good with littles after they got over how scary he looked.

Needless to say, Sam was a bit surprised when he walked in the communal kitchen to see a certain Spider-Baby climbing on the wall. 

Bucky stood on the other side of the kitchen with a straight face, but the glint in his eyes told Sam he was close to something. Whether that was snapping out of anger, or crying from how funny Peter looked climbing on the walls, he wasn’t sure.

"Peter," He started gently. "You need to change."

"No! Don't need'a change! Fine!" He yelled back with tears in his eyes. 

Sam tried not to look terribly amused at the scene unfolding in front of him. He cleared his throat. Peter looked over at him, eyes wide and teary. This distraction gave Bucky enough time to cross the floor and pull Peter off of the wall. 

The little immediately threw his head back and wailed. It was fairly high pitched, and definitely the cry of an overtired (possibly hungry) little new to their class and rank. 

A pang of sympathy for both Peter and Bucky shot through Sam's chest. The new littles always gave their caregivers a hard time, hence why the classification centers only allow experienced caregivers to care for newly classified littles. The recently classified caregivers go through government mandated classes and have to complete a certain amount of hours volunteering around littles to ensure they're not a danger to themselves or any little they may care for. 

Bucky didn't react to Peter's wails. He kept his face neutral and his gaze forward. Sam followed him to Clint's room on the floor. 

Once inside, the caregiver placed Peter on the changing table, only for him to roll off and bolt. Sam intercepted him at the door, using his body as a road block. 

"Whoa there little man. Where are you going?" He asked, grabbing Pete by the shoulders with a firm yet careful grip.

"Don't need'a change. Wanna finish eatin'." He demanded, struggling in Sam's grip. 

"That right? So you won't mind if Friday or I checks?" He asked, holding eye contact with the little. Peter looked away immediately, fidgeting with his hands. 

"Don't need..." 

"Friday?" 

"Peter is wearing a soiled pull up. It is recommended that he gets changed within the next half an hour to avoid rashes and any further discomfort."

Peter started to cry again, this time covering his face with his hands. Sam crouched to his level to give him a proper hug. "You're okay, little man. You need to get changed, that's it."

With that, he picked up the little and brought him back to the changing table where Bucky had prepared a fresh pull up for him. He choked out another cry when he was set on the cool plastic mat. Those cries were stifled when a stuffed elephant was placed in his arms. He sniffled, burying his face in the plush toy. 

Bucky made quick work of tugging the little's sweats off, cleaning him up, powdering him, and slipping a new pull up on his hips. He tugged the pants back on. 

However, before Bucky or Sam was able to pick the little up, he rolled off the table, plopped down in the corner, pouting at them from afar. He held the plush toy to his chest, tears in his eyes, and cheeks wet from tears. 

Sam tried not to smile at the adorable sight in front of him. He was certain that Peter had no idea his actions made him seem cute instead a force to be reckoned with. 

A few beats passed before Sam decided to do something. 

"Yo, man, I've been meaning to show you and Steve this movie series," He started, turning to Bucky. 

Bucky glanced at Sam and hummed. "What is it called?"

"It's called Star Wars," 

Peter perked up in the corner. He turned 180 degrees to face the two caregivers with curiosity filling his eyes instead of petulant anger. 

While Sam explained the premise of the series, Peter got off the ground and inched towards them. Of course, Bucky nor Sam reacted. They just kept speaking as if no one was there. Peter gets so close, he was almost standing on Bucky's toes. He craned his neck to look at the two caregivers with his wide doe eyes. 

"Star wars?" He asked, looking between the two. "We watch star wars?" 

Sam smirked. This always worked with Clint. Bruce was a little harder to get through to because while he wasn't technically a little, he had very strong tendencies and often dropped into a headspace after a round of being the Hulk, or when things got exceptionally stressful. 

"Yeah, little man, we can watch Star Wars,"

Peter's face scrunched up before anyone of them moved. "No before movies. They stink."

Sam laughed. "No prequels, promise,"

Peter fell asleep on Bucky's chest once more halfway through The Empire Strikes Back. The two caregivers were meticulous when it came to covering the little's eyes during the scariest scenes.

Sam turned off the movie while Bucky pried the little off of his chest. They elected to let Peter sleep on the couch while they had a discussion in the kitchen.

"Steve called you." Bucky said, face neutral.

"He was worried about you and Peter," Sam explained, trying to keep them both calm. They got on each other's nerves sometimes, but they both loved Steve which is why they put up with each other. 

"I had it handled."

"Right, spider-kid crawling on the walls is having it handled,"

Bucky blinked, mouth twitching. "He's only 15. This is his first time dropping. He has abilities that no one else has."

Sam hummed, leaning against the counter. 

"He should get classified sooner rather than later." Bucky continued.

Sam scoffed. "For once, I agree with you. You think he's C?"

Rank C was the toddler ranking. The ages differ from little to little, but these guys range from one year to three years old in their headspaces, and more often than not need protection when they’re not in their headspace. The rank above it, D, was the little kid ranking, about three and a half to five years old. It wasn’t uncommon for littles to have tendencies from two rankings, as the rankings were solely approximate of the littles age range. The system was put in place to help match caregivers and littles.

“That or D. Maybe there’s some crossover,” 

Sam nodded. “That means Stark won’t be able to take him,” He then chuckled. “Lord knows there’s gonna be hell to pay.”

Stark had caregiver tendencies, which was why him and Peter were such a good match in the first place. Stark got to coddle the spider-baby for awhile, and Peter got to be coddled, which may have triggered the drop. 

Small shuffling noises caught both of their attentions. They go back to the living area to Peter sleepily blinking his eyes open. When he saw Bucky, he held his arms up to him. 

“Sleepy bubba,” He whimpered. 

Sam could see the exact moment Bucky melted. His eyes softened, he smiled. Smiled. The Winter Soldier smiled. 

Bucky picked up the little and disappeared towards the elevator with a small good night from Sam.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr is @chasing-lux :)

Apparently, Peter can't sleep alone when he's in his headspace. 

Bucky had taken him up to the guest room on his floor, placing him in bed, and used a multitude of blankets and pillows as a barrier between the little and the edge of the bed. Peter fell asleep soon after being placed in bed, curled up around a stray pillow. The caregiver left after a few minutes of watching him sleep. 

Bucky was awoken by a teary little standing in the doorway of his room only minutes after he fell asleep. He was put on edge at first as the room was dark, and shadows were more threatening than sad littles. 

"Peter?" He asked, voice gruff. Sniffling filled the room as Peter dashed towards the bed and into Bucky's arms. He let out a noise of surprise, wrapping his arms around the trembling boy out of instinct. 

"You left." The accusatory words were muffled by Bucky's chest. "Weren't a'pposed to leave," 

"I'm sorry, doll." Bucky said, unable to keep the shock from his voice. "Are you alright?" 

"Bad dream. Bad guys tried to hurt me. Was alone." He explained, snuggling under Bucky's duvet. "Wan' stay." 

"Are you sure you want to stay with me?" He asked. He certainly wasn't used to sleeping next to anyone, let alone a little he could easily hurt if he had his own night terror. 

"Yes." he sniffled again, pushing his face into the man's side. 

Bucky paused. If this went wrong, and something happened to Peter, he wouldn't forgive himself. As far as he was concerned, he had the blood of the littles he couldn't protect from HYDRA on his hands. He wouldn't know what to do if he hurt Peter, a little that already trusted him after mere hours spent together. 

Peter's face fell. "No stay?" 

"You can stay." He affirmed quickly, lying next to the little. Peter’s hand shot out across Bucky’s body, gripping his metal arm, wrapping it around himself. Bucky frowns for a second, unsure of what Peter was trying to achieve. Peter obviously thought that wasn’t an acceptable response because he huffed, grabbed Bucky’s shoulder and attempted to roll the larger man onto his side. The caregiver finally complied, rolling onto his side to please Peter. He let a content noise, slipping his thumb into his mouth while snuggling into Bucky’s chest. 

In spite of himself, Bucky smiled. He held Peter close while his breathing evened out, and his grip on Bucky’s metal arm loosened. A surge of warmth in his chest overwhelmed him. For a moment, he let everything go and buried his face in Peter’s hair. His hair was soft and smelled like old spice. Bucky smiled wider. He was trying to look and smell as masculine as possible to keep himself from dropping, how cute. 

Truth be told, Bucky was on top of the world. He got to take care of a little (most likely a little in his rank) for the better part of an afternoon. Better yet, Peter was incredibly tactile. He was touched starved, and so was Bucky. He wasn’t fond of anyone but Steve and maybe Natasha touching him, but he would cuddle a little any day, any time, and anywhere. It just surprised him that little was Peter, the sensitive protege of the man that wanted him dead. 

Then again, Peter was probably the neediest little he’d ever laid eyes on (not that he laid eyes on many before escaping HYDRA). Most littles are content with being left alone while they were in their headspaces unless they were rank A’s or B’s, the youngest rankings of all. Most littles rank C or D were perfectly happy being mischievous or playing on their own. Peter would have none of that.

Bucky fell asleep not much later than Peter. He woke up at the crack of dawn, just like Steve and Sam would for a morning run. 

However, he’s reluctant to leave the sleeping angel in his arms. Peter had drooled in his sleep, leaving a small trail of saliva down his cheek. Slipping his arm down, he checked Peter’s pull up. Wet. He paused, contemplating his choices. He could change Peter while he’s still asleep and risk waking the baby up, or he could wake Peter up and get a read on what headspace he’s in, or he could let Peter sleep and make sure he’s woken up before a rash developed. 

“Friday? Wake Peter up before he gets a rash please,” Bucky says softly, gently freeing himself from Peter’s vise grip. A small whine fell from the boy’s lips. Bucky placed a pillow where his body once was. Peter wraps himself around it, shoving his face in it. Bucky couldn’t help but melt at the sight of him. Everything else disappeared for a second. If he died right then, he would’ve been happier and more content than he had in decades.

Bucky stayed for a few more minutes than he had planned to. Peter was too cute to leave. But he did. Unfortunately, Peter would likely be in between his headspaces. He had been reading on the biology and psychology of littles now that it has become a popular topic, and one thing each book or article stressed was the state of the little when they were in between their headspace. Most scientists and littles came to a consensus that giving the little space was the best thing to do unless they were in danger. Unclassified littles were more susceptible to being in between headspaces because their class is finally emerging. Often times, it left the little an absolute mess with very little idea how to handle their new, well, everything. 

Running his hand through Pete’s hair one last time, Bucky got up, changed into his exercise clothes, and went to the gym on the lower levels of the tower. He didn’t feel comfortable leaving the tower with Peter still inside of it, all alone, with no way of knowing how he was feeling, or if he was safe.

After a couple of hours in the gym, Bucky felt like he was on top of the world again. Not only does he have the remaining endorphins from caring for Peter, he has the endorphins from a great workout. 

“Friday, how is Peter?” He asks before he got in the shower the gym had. He would shower in his bathroom, but Peter was probably still asleep. 

“Peter is still asleep with no sign of a rash or discomfort.” 

So Bucky took a long shower, preparing himself for the worst. Hopefully, Peter would be in his little headspace so Bucky could take care of him that day. Worst case scenario, Peter would be in between both headspaces with no way of knowing how to fall into either one, and with no coping mechanisms to not have a breakdown at the end of the day from stress. And knowing Peter, he wouldn’t ask for help. 

Despite his worries, Bucky made himself breakfast while Sam drank his morning coffee at one of the counters. 

“Morning,” He says, looking up his phone. 

“Mornin’.” Bucky responded, sitting at the table with two plates of food. Both had large servings of eggs and a few pieces of toast. Sam raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t find it terribly ordinary. Super soldiers could put away a lot of food. However, Bucky only ate one plate. He covered the other, leaving it on the counter for Peter when he inevitably woke up. 

“Are you ready to face a cranky toddler and or teenager today?” He asked, an amused glint in his eyes. 

Bucky smiled faintly. 

“So you can smile? You’ve been holding out on me, Barnes.” He chuckles. Bucky purposely made his face fall into a brooding scowl. 

Sam rolled his eyes before talking again. “Steve called again. He said that Stark is badly injured. They may have to call one of us in. Hell, maybe both of us in.” 

Bucky nodded gravely. “What does the timeline look like?”

Sam shrugged. “They should be back in a week, tops.”

Bucky nodded once more. Peter slunk into the kitchen moments later, hair a mess and dressed in a different pair of sweats. 

“Morning, Kid.” Sam says, not unkindly.

“Not a kid,” Peter snaps back. 

The two men share a look. So it begins. 

“Have some breakfast,” Sam tried again, pushing the plate Bucky had made towards him. 

“Thanks,” He mumbled, taking a seat at the table far away from both Bucky and Sam. 

Poor thing must be absolutely mortified. He clearly wasn’t little, but he was far from big. He ate with shaky hands, and he drank milk with his breakfast. It was a strange thing to notice, but only Bucky, Steve, and sometimes Natasha drank milk on its own. 

Bucky did his best to let Peter have his space, but after last night, he wasn’t sure if he could. He looked so anxious, and small in his big sweatpants and sweater. He was also sad that his time with Peter was over. Despite his natural inclinations, Bucky manages to let Peter finish eating in peace. 

He put his dishes in the sink, and trudged out of the kitchen claiming “I have to finish my homework.”

During the day, the two caregivers narrowly avoid two tantrums and an accident. The first tantrum almost occurred when Peter was unable to find his school bag. He searched Bucky’s room, then the room Stark had allotted him, and came back to the common area with frustrated tears in his eyes. He refused to tell Sam or Bucky what was wrong until after he found his school bag. The near-accident happened a few hours later. It was a classic case of not realizing he had to go until it was almost too late. Thankfully, he did make it with no damage. The last tantrum transpired while Peter was getting lunch. Bucky had gone back to reading in the common area to keep an eye on Peter while he did homework. Peter wanted to eat pasta with sauce on Stark’s very expensive couches, and Sam had asked him to eat somewhere else. He huffed, and ignored him at first. Sam asked again, which Peter ignored. After the third time he was asked, he tensed up like he was going to pitch a fit, but gave in and went to eat at the table. 

Peter ended up napping on the couch later that evening. Bucky was positive it was unintentional, but he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of it.

Bucky went into the kitchen where Sam was just wrapping up a phone call. 

“Alright. See you soon.” He sighed as he hung up. 

“What is it?”

“Thor came to visit just in time,” Sam started, leaning against the counter. “He helped Steve wrap everything up and they’re on their way back now.”

“How’s Stark?”

Neither of them noticed the small footsteps coming into the kitchen. 

“Not good. He’s going to need time in Cho’s cradle to make a full recovery.” 

The sound of shattering glass filled the room. Peter stood in the entrance to the kitchen, glass and water now surrounding his feet. Myriad emotions go show on his face; shock, sadness, and most of all, fear. Tears filled his eyes as he started sinking to the floor. 

It took exactly half a second for Bucky and Sam to react. Bucky surged forward, grabbing Peter under his armpits, and taking him out of the room as Sam grabbed a towel and the broom. It was clear that something had made Peter drop hard. 

Bucky took Peter to Clint’s little room on the communal floor. He started walking around the room, bouncing Peter on his hip.

“What’s wrong, doll?” He asked softly, rubbing the sobbing little’s back.

“Missa S’ark is dead!” He wailed, clinging to Bucky.

Bucky kicked himself. Of course hearing the news his mentor was in need of intense care was distressing to Peter. The kid was already between headspaces, it was already so easy for him to drop. He almost threw two tantrums in the span of three hours for christ’s sake. 

“No, doll, he’s just hurt.” That stopped Peter’s wails for all of five seconds.

“Missa S’ark’s gonna die?” He whimpered, lip wobbling again. 

“No, doll. He’s just hurt.” That sentiment did little to calm Peter. He sobbed again, resting his head on Bucky’s shoulder. He shushed him lightly as he sat down in the rocking chair. 

The gentle rocking motion did well to soothe the little further. “Mr. Stark will be just fine, Peter.”

Peter only sniffled in response, reaching for Bucky’s metal hand again. He grabbed his fingers, sticking them in his mouth. Bucky sighed, reaching for the pacifier that laid discarded on the table. He took his fingers back, putting the pacifier in his mouth. Peter accepted it, gripping Bucky’s shirt with clenched hands. Stray tears cascaded down his face every so often as he rocked them both. 

“Friday, ask Sam to bring me some water.”

A few minutes later, Sam came into the room with a water bottle with a straw, and the elephant Bucky had given Peter yesterday. He pushed the elephant into Peter’s arms, electing a happy noise from the little as he rubbed it against his cheek. He handed the water bottle to Bucky with a small nod. 

“Thanks, Sam.”

“Thank ‘am,” Peter echoed behind the pacifier. 

“You’re welcome,” He said to them both. 

A few more minutes passed, and Peter reached for the water bottle. Bucky handed it to him and took out his pacifier. He drinks greedily; the crying fit really wore him out. He pulls away from the water, smacked his lips, and went back to resting his head on Bucky’s shoulder. The caregiver put the pacifier back into Pete’s mouth right before the little fell asleep in his arms. 

Bucky continued rocking for a few minutes to ensure that Peter was asleep. It was early. Only about seven PM, but the poor little was tuckered out. He kept a loose grip on Bucky, fingers loosely tangled in his shirt. 

Unwilling to take any chances, Bucky changed Peter into a diaper from the closet. He then lies Peter in bed, crawling in next to him. He planted a few kisses on his forehead before pulling the covers over both of them.

“Mr. Barnes, the team has returned and is requesting you join them at the med bay for a team meeting.”


End file.
